


let them in

by halfwheeze



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gift Fic, M/M, Mention of Dobby's death and burial, Multi, Possessive Behavior, Protective Fleur Delacour, Protectiveness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mention of injury, protective Bill Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 03:02:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20369605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfwheeze/pseuds/halfwheeze
Summary: Harry takes a stunning curse that sends him down a flight of stairs. Fleur and Bill don't very much like that.





	let them in

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShinpeiHolic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinpeiHolic/gifts).

> I'm simple. Kaity says she likes a ship that has no content, I write a thing. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_ “You will tell me where my husband is!”  _ Harry hears yelled above the din of the ward, her accent curling through the words in a way that feels like something  _ taut;  _ Fleur’s accent has been so much clearer in the years since the two of them and Bill had been together, but sometimes she still loses a bit of her English to the French in her bones. 

When Harry tries to sit up, tries to tell them to let her through, there’s a hand on his wrist, keeping him down. Ron. His partner so far as being an auror goes, Ron likely knows exactly what happened to get him laid up here, even if Harry remains unsure. When he looks over, the other man shakes his head instead of offering any answers, waiting. He probably doesn’t want to explain more than once, and by the sounds of the storming happening further down the ward, it’ll only be a minute or so before Fleur elbows her way through, Bill hot on her heels. He can hear their wolf backing Fleur’s play, even if the quiet rumble of his voice is less distinguishable than her near-shrieking. 

He loves his wife more than words can say. 

He doesn’t know many relationships with arrangements like his with his partners, but according to Molly, they are not the first that she has known; she has had to become much more accepting of Fleur with two of her claimed sons romantically attached. Harry can see the relief pouring off of both Fleur and Bill as they crash into the hospital room, nearly tripping over each other on their way to Harry’s side. 

“I’m going to kill every criminal left! I’m going to remove their heads!” Fleur shouts, clinging onto Harry’s hand with less than a second between her and the door. Bill, just as protective but not nearly so loud, puts a possessive hand on Harry’s ankle, hard and heavy, as the set of his jaw communicates more than words he’s willing to say in front of his little brother ever could. Ron, noticing the new tension of the room, clears his throat. 

“I’ll give the three of you a minute, aye? Was a stunning curse, Harry took a nasty fall down a flight of stairs, all of that. He should be fine,” he reports, standing out of his chair and crossing out of the room just as quickly as Fleur had come into it. Harry feels more able to breathe as Bill comes to the side of the bed now free to kneel by his side, lacing his fingers with Harry’s. Bill’s long hair is down, his earrings not even in, though the necklace he never takes off hangs proudly from his throat: a coin, a lightning bolt on one side with a textbook drawing veela fire on the other. Harry plays with it sometimes when he’s nervous, and he’d be playing with it now if his husband had not captured his hand. 

“Don’t scare us like that, Harry,” Bill says, quiet and rasping, and Harry feels his heart fall from his chest to his knees. Bill is only ever quiet when someone has given him quite a fright, and Harry hates to be responsible for that. Hot fingers squeeze his other hand and Harry turns to look at Fleur, the beautiful lines of her face marred with worry. 

“You scared us very badly,  _ d’or,”  _ she says, kissing one of his knuckles. He knows it’s not nearly so bad as the two of them are making it out to be, knows that he’ll be better by morning’s come, but… they’re like this, sometimes. 

He thinks that maybe burying Dobby on their beach showed them a side of him that they didn’t deserve to have thrust upon them. 

“I’m going to be fine, guys. And… you know I can’t promise. This is my job, as much as curse-breaking is yours,” he whispers, the guilt taking the volume from his voice as he stops looking at either of them for the perfect between of his own lap. Both of them squeeze at his fingertips, careful, but it’s not until Bill pulls on his hand, pressing a kiss to each finger with a smile that Harry can look up. Bill is always the one between the three of them most prone to smiling, an effort to keep himself light after the fucking tragedy of the war, and he keeps the smiling parts of Harry alive. He thinks Fleur is the same way, though this is one specific facet of their husband they’ve never discussed before. 

“That does not mean we cannot baby you still, my sweet. You are the youngest of us, after all,” Fleur says, a smile coming to her as well as she brings a frequent joke between the three of them to the forefront. For all of the cradle robbing jokes the three of them had gotten over the years, Bill most of all, they just had to start joking about it too. A few smear campaigns by the Prophet in which it was implied that Harry was looking for a new set of parents, a couple of lawsuits set forth and won by Bill Weasley himself, and the world had stopped with the jokes, but… the three of them still do it. It’s… different, when they do it. Sweet. Joking. Just the kind of thing that they need to get out of their heads. 

“And baby you I will; yer lucky if you’re gettin’ out of bed in the next week, love, because I don’t know if I can let ya out of my sight,” Bill comments, kisses still being pressed to Harry’s hand in an adoring fashion. It takes all of the maturity and calm that Harry has not to giggle, pretty and young and free, because he knows that both Fleur and Bill will make fun of him in that way that just makes him blush more. 

“I love you both, you know. I don’t mean to do these things,” he mutters, bringing both Bill’s hand and Fleur’s to his face to press kisses of his own against the backs of their hands. Fleur laughs. 

“We know, sweetling. You would settle down with us and never leave again if your bleeding heart would allow it, and we love you still for not being able to take a moment for yourself. Now, budge up. It was only a stunner, but we still wanna be close to ya if we can,” Bill says, already moving to climb into bed with Harry and gesturing for Fleur to do the same. A peal of laughter tears out of Harry’s throat unbidden, a delicate giggle coming from Fleur as well, and it’s a mess for the three of them to get comfortable on the small hospital mattress. In the end, Fleur is behind Harry with the wizard between her knees and leaning back against her chest, Bill facedown with his face buried in Harry’s stomach. Harry gives into the impulse to stroke his hands through Bill’s free hair easily. 

“Go to sleep, ‘arry,” Fleur says, her own sleepiness stealing the first letter of his name from between her teeth, and Harry nods, turning his head to tuck it beneath her chin. It’s one of the most comfortable ways he knows how to fall asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! 
> 
> Find me at primekent on tumblr!


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